


What Happens in Vegas...

by SammysGirl666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Married!Wincest, Vegas, drunken marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammysGirl666/pseuds/SammysGirl666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up and his life is a little bit different but, then again, it's mostly the same.</p><p>Prompt: Wincest and accidentally getting kind-of married in Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas...

Dean wakes up to a throbbing headache and a rolling stomach. He feels a warm body next to his and the roughness of the motel bed sheets is a highly unpleasant sensation against his sticky and sensitive skin. He’s sore in a way he’s not sure he’s ever been before, his hips aching like he spent the entire night hula hooping or, more likely, fucking the life out of Sam.

 

At least, he really hopes it’s Sam next to him or he’s really, really screwed in ways his hungover brain can’t handle imagining. Still, he’s got no recollection of the night before aside from drinking…a lot. And he remembers he started the night with Sam but can’t be sure who he ended it with and if it’s not Sam next to him in this bed, then he doesn’t know what he’ll too.

 

His stomach rolls and anxiety starts to crop up at the prospect of cheating. God, Sam would never forgive him. He’s so worried about it, he forgets his hangover and opens his eyes. He’s almost scared to look at who’s sleeping next to him and almost laughs in relief when he sees the messy, tangled hair of his brother on the pillow beside him.

 

He groans quietly and rubs his hands over his face, pausing when he feels the cool metal of his ring on his face…but it’s on the wrong finger. It’s not his ring either. It’s a diamond ring with a thing silver band, and it takes minute before he recognizes it as his mother’s wedding ring, wrapped tightly around the middle of his ring finger. He inhales sharply, breath catching in his throat.

It’s _their mom’s_ wedding ring, something that had inexplicably survived the fire. When their father, John, went through the wreckage after the flames had died down, he found the ring. It had been stuffed in the Impala’s glove box since then.

Until now, apparently.

 

He looks over at Sam who’s still fast asleep and shakes his shoulder harshly.

 

“Sam,” Dean whisper screams, “Sammy, wake up. Sam! Wake the fuck up!”

 

Sam jolts awake, head snapping to the side before he lets out a long, loud groan of pain. He reaches up to rub his head and glares tiredly at Dean.

 

“What the fuck man?” He says huskily, voice sounding abused like--like he’d spent the night sucking his big brother’s cock. Dean feels himself start to harden at the mere idea.

 

“Sammy lemme see your left hand,” Dean demands, trying not to sound as overwhelmed as he’s beginning to feel.

 

Sam squints in confusion but seems too hungover to argue. He lifts his left hand and begins to show it to Dean but pauses, bringing it closer to his face to examine the shiny silver ring on his finger. And then he gasps.

 

Dean can guess. It’s their father’s wedding ring, the one John never took off in his life since the moment he put it on.

“Dean,” Sam says dazedly, eyes finding the ring on Dean’s finger, “what happened last night?”

“I think,” Dean says roughly, looking around their dingy motel room, “I think we go married last night.”

Dean’s getting snippets of it, of getting drunk with Sam. He remember the chapel and the kiss and the subsequent fucking. They’d shown up in Vegas four days ago and they’ve been enjoy the strip. A little too much, apparently. But strangely enough, as overwhelmed as Dean feels with emotion, there isn’t a lot of shock or upset in him.

Sam looks around the room and then snorts.

“Not much of a honeymoon suite.”

Dean chuckles and nods in agreement. This isn’t, at all, what he planned for when he got married…in fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever had any plans to get married. And now that he is? Well…

He looks over at Sam who looks serene, eyes stuck on the ring as he twirls it around his finger. For some reason, this doesn’t feel like the surprise it should be.

“Are you gonna freak out about this?” Sam asks, eyes turning to Dean.

“I don’t know yet…I mean, it would’ve been nice to do it sober, ya know?” Dean admits. Because he has to be honest and say that it’s not the marriage part that he’s really freaking out about. He realizes that he just didn’t want it to be like…this.

“We can do it sober,” Sam says, lifting himself up and wincing with what Dean assumes to be a throb of his head. “I mean, why not, right? We can have a nice ceremony and invite Charlie and Jody and Garth and maybe even Crowley…okay, maybe not Crowley.”

Dean realizes, right then, that this is the reason he never dreamed of marrying Sam. Sam deserves a real wedding with a real girl and family and friends there to support him. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t want to marry his brother, his broken asshole of a brother, who’s taken so much from him.

“You’re too hard on yourself, you know,” Sam whispers, like he can read Dean’s mind. He scoots closer to Dean, reaching up to cup his brother’s face, and Dean can feel the cool metal of their dad’s wedding ring against his cheek. “I love you, De and I’ve wanted to marry you since I was 18. I want this. I want you…forever. And this?—” he points to his finger “—this doesn’t change anything. I’ve always wanted this and I want it now and I wouldn’t have cared if I never got it but now that I have it…now that I have you...in this way, well I just don’t want to give it up. I mean, I never planned on marrying anyone else anyway. Did—did you?

“No Sammy,” Dean answers immediately, getting closer to his brother and pressing a kiss gently to his cheek. “But are you sure this is what you want? ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go Sam, not now. I can’t…I won’t.”

It’s as good of an “I love you” as Sam thinks he’ll ever hear. Even if the rings don’t mean anything for people like them, people who don’t even exist in the eyes of the law and even if the marriage license has fake names on it, none of that matters. The gesture is symbolic, a commitment they’ve never needed but one that they’ve both secretly craved, although Dean hadn’t known what it was he was craving. Now he does, he gets it. There’s comfort in the gesture, a solidarity that Dean can’t put into words if even cared to try.

“I love you too Dean,” Sam mutters, reading Dean’s mind again, pressing his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, “and I want to be your husband.”

The word makes Dean’s heart skip a beat but his face doesn’t move. He just shakes his head and lets his lips curve into a small smile.

“We’ll need to get mom’s ring resized,” Dean points out, wiggling his ring finger and wincing at the way it squeezes the middle of his finger uncomfortably.

Sam smiles and tries to hide it in Dean’s neck but Dean feels it against his jaw. He smiles, resting his face gently against Sam’s, suddenly extremely okay with the idea of being husbands with his brother.

“I love you Sammy,” Dean whispers because it’s been clogging the back of his throat since he can remember and he’s not sure why he hasn’t said it, why he’s let Sam believe that he couldn’t. Sam’s eyes go wide and his lips part and tremble and then lunges at Dean, crashing their lips together.

“Fuck me Dean,” he demands harshly, ripping his lips away to pull Dean closer.

“Yeah Sammy,” Dean agrees, already hard up from earlier, “yeah, gonna fuck you, gonna make you my husband, Sammy, make it official.”

“To be fair,” Sam pants as Dean’s hands move over his body, “I think we did plenty of ‘making it official’ last night.”

Dean rolls his eyes and smacks Sam’s side.

“Yeah well I wanna remember it, asshole.”

“Hey,” Sam calls out, “that’s no way to talk to you husband.”

And Dean can’t help but laugh, can’t help but let the joyous sound ring out from his throat. He feels lighter, lighter than he’s felt in…forever. All he wants to do is pull Sam close and fuck him into the next century and he wants to stay here, forever, in this moment with Sam. It’s such a Lifetime movie moment but he doesn’t care. God he doesn’t give any fucks because he has Sam here and now and, presumably, forever.

“I love you Sammy,” Dean says again because he can, because it no longer feels inadequate.

Sam grins so wide, his dimples come out in full force.

“I know Dean,” he breathes against Dean’s lips, “now make love to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHY IS THIS SHIT ALWAYS GETTING SO OUT OF HAND?
> 
> Find and follow me at http://fucktoysam.tumblr.com to request prompts and maybe get an unsolicited 1,000 word fic.


End file.
